


Until the Whole World is Blind

by StealingPennies



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StealingPennies/pseuds/StealingPennies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Alecto, Megaera and Tisiphone are their names. They are the Erinyes. The Furies. Do you know what happens to those taken for punishment? </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the Whole World is Blind

**Author's Note:**

> No slash. No porn. A small ficlet for a death that deserved to have more meaning.

**Until the Whole World is Blind**

 

Alecto, Megaera and Tisiphone are their names. They are the Erinyes. The Furies. Do you know what happens to those taken for punishment?

No? I see you shake your head. You neither know nor care. And why should you? You are tired from travelling and seek only to find food and shelter. I shall take you to both and provide a little conversation along the way. You do not have to reply or even listen. But it seems I must talk. Come, now.

The Furies take only those who deserve to suffer. For, as the Furies are immortal, so the punishments they dispense spin onwards through the days and nights of eternity. Those who go mad are the lucky ones. At least they no longer know themselves or hold memories of the life they failed to appreciate and deserve.

The Furies took my brother. Nilas was his name. We thought he was a good man. We were wrong. 

I don’t know what Nilas did, only that his crimes must have been terrible indeed, too terrible to imagine. I try. I close my eyes, and in my mind, I see not a monster but my brother, looking up at me, trusting me to make things right. As when a child and the cloth ball he threw travelled too high and caught in the branches of the olive tree I climbed up and plucked it unharmed from its resting place. I cannot retrieve my brother in the same way. He is lost. I wish he had died. That would be kinder.

Our mother cries. He was her baby.

Either his life here was a lie or his fate is so unjust as to merit bringing the Gods to their knees. A land that can brush away a man’s life would not deserve to survive. Let it sink to the bottom of the seas and be forgotten. And we who would support such injustice deserve to die too. Let the waves wash over us and fill our mouths and ears, cover our eyes, and fill our lungs with water.

Do I frighten you? You seem uneasy. There’s no need. I will take you to the House of Spyros where you can purchase wine or cool water. Honey cakes, too. There is shade there. The almond tree is in full blossom. You can take a room for the night and leave your bag safely while you seek your friends. Spyros is an honest man.

Of course, the Gods would not let such an injustice take place. I know that. Nilas must have been other than he seemed. He travelled greatly. Who knows what temptations take a man so far from home? Forgive my tears. The truth is difficult to accept. I loved him.

Philemon brought us the news. He came from his wedding, his wife veiled so that the happiness in her eyes should not bring us more sorrow. She need not have bothered but I was grateful for the gesture. Kindness is never wasted.

On a rush seat in the corner our mother, Angeliki, rocked back and forth and gripped at her bodice with hands that no longer had the strength to rend. Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. “My son. My son,” she cried. She still cries but the tears are different now - quieter. This is our fate and we must make the best we can of it.

I said nothing. What words could bring Nilas back to life? Or ease the pain of sharing blood with such a creature? Philemon said it was chance. A mistake. But the Gods do not make such errors. Damnation is not a matter of bad luck. It is not possible.

Nilas was to have been married. Aikaterine would have been a dutiful wife. She is a widow with a young son. We passed her house earlier. It was on the corner with a crack along the wall from which the wallflowers cling. The fees for this trip were to have paid for their wedding. Who will marry her now? To have one husband die is unlucky. Two deaths sets a precedent. Philemon left money. A gift, he called it. I set half aside to give to Aikaterine. She was distraught. She was grateful. In the end, she was relieved to have been spared the wedding. Who knows what depravities that Nilas may have subjected her to once she was legally his? Her brown eyes sparkled with tears as she spoke. They had known each other since childhood. 

Aikaterine loved Nilas and must learn to hate him even as she mourns. Perhaps as the years go by and she grows older and watches her reflection in the water change and there is no laughing husband by her side and no more children she may find it easier.

Already I am finding it easier to hate Nilas. Does that shock you? News travels fast, you know. Whispers. Already my business suffers. Like brother to brother. Ah, I see from your face you have a brother. Is he older or younger? Older, you say. He is like me. It is for the older brother to protect the younger. It is both a privilege and burden. I have failed.

Perhaps we may sell our house and move. Angelika has lived all her life in this city but from inside four walls one place is very like another. She will survive. We all will.

Revenge? What use would that be? To take revenge I would have to believe that some huge injustice has taken place. I do not believe that. I cannot believe it. What would revenge gain? You start with one eye and soon the whole world is blind.

We are nearly here now. You seem weary. You should rest. Would you like me to take a message to your friends? No then. It has been a pleasure meeting you, Arcas, my friend. I wish you well on your quest. May peace and prosperity follow you all your days.


End file.
